The Faded River
The rain had not stopped for three days, a relentless, grey curtain that turned the cobblestones of the courtyard into a slick, treacherous mirror reflecting the dim, flickering light of the single lantern in the watchtower. Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the stone parapet, his hand resting on the hilt of a sword that felt heavier than it had a decade ago, the leather grip worn smooth and...
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